


Welcome to the Artificial Hellmouth

by AMarguerite, Hammie



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Slayer!Cosette
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-12
Updated: 2013-01-12
Packaged: 2017-11-25 04:38:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/635205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AMarguerite/pseuds/AMarguerite, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hammie/pseuds/Hammie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She spun around, lacing her arm around the creature’s throat and holding the stake directly over its heart. “Don’t move.”</p><p>The creature whimpered, and from her position behind it she could see the whites of its eyes gleam in the meagre moonlight. “You needn’t carry on acting,” she informed it, quietly into its ear. “I know what you are.”</p><p>“A law student?” the creature responded in shaky and bewildered tones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Featuring Cosette the Vampire Slayer, Javert her Watcher, and Valjean her adoptive vampire-with-a-soul father! 8) Plz enjoy.

Javert’s smile was closer to the snarl of the wolf. “Let her go.”

Valjean tightened his grip around Cosette. He had promised Fantine-- he could have given her the eternal life bestowed upon him, but it had been too late for her, and Valjean would not transform someone who would not consent. He looked desperately behind him. He had the rope in one hand and Cosette, trembling, pressed against his side-- if only he had had more time, he could have lifted Cosette over the wall--

“Valjean, I know what you are,” said Javert, stepping closer. “You are a vampire, I know you, and I know your kind. You cannot escape me.”

Cosette pressed against his leg; Valjean’s grip was vice-like on her shoulder, but she did not cry out. She was fearless, this child.

Javert took another step forward. Valjean took a step back.

“Let the girl go,” said Javert. “You know she is too young to be changed. She is what, all of seven?” He looked down at Cosette and seemed to really look at her for the first time. He stared intently at Cosette’s face, newly visible under the street lamp. “Child, what is your name-- answer me!”

“Cosette,” the girl said, trembling a little at his tone.

“You are frightening her,” said Valjean.

“You are seven--- were you born in Paris? Was your name at one point Euphrasie?”

“I don’t know,” said Cosette, a little bewildered.

“Her name is Euphrasie, her mother, Fantine, called her Cosette,” Valjean replied sharply. “Your business is with me, not the child. Let her alone.”

But Javert was not paying attention. He stared fixedly at Cosette. After a moment, he said, “Into every generation a slayer is born: one girl in all the world, a chosen one. She alone will wield the strength and skill to fight the vampires, demons and the forces of darkness; to stop the spread of their evil and the swell of their number. She is the Slayer."

“The what?” asked Cosette.

“Child,” said Javert, crouching onto one knee to get a better look at her. “I have been looking for you for a long time. Have you heard of the Watcher’s Council?”

***

“Again!”

Cosette raised her wooden stick and jabbed it at the straw dummy.

“No, that’s not the heart,” said Javert, tapping his nightstick against his leg. “You punctured the left lung. Again!”

“Javert, it is past noon, for pity’s sake let her stop to have some bread--”

“What is it with you and bread?” snapped Javert.

“I can’t eat it any longer,” Valjean replied simply. 

“Ah yes,” Javert retorted, because Cosette turned to look at her guardian with such naked compassion, “because a demon set up shop in your body. You are not a man, 24601. Stop pretending to be.”

Cosette glared at Javert. “You have to stop being mean to my father. He can’t help it, he never asked to be bitten. And the Bishop of Digne bought his soul for God.”

“I do not care about Faustian bargains made on behalf of vampires--”

Cosette persisted, “Papa is a man like any other man.”

“Except,” replied Javert, “he sucks the blood of his fellow man.”

Cosette lifted her chin. “How is that remarkable in our society?” 

_Teenagers_ , thought Javert, irritated. “You are aware that as both a convict and a vampire, the legality of his guardianship is severely compromised?”

“You are aware that I am the Slayer?” Cosette asked. She lept forward suddenly and stabbed the straw dummy straight through the heart. Cosette ripped it out again and fell back into her starting position. With a flurry of petticoats and skirts, she kicked the dummy high in the midriff and stabbed it again and again and again, straight in the heart.

Javert thought of several things he could say, about how he hated Favourite, the Watcher who had first spotted Cosette, how vampires could not actually have souls, how the Watcher’s Council really oughtn’t to have given into one very determined seven-year-old no matter if she was the chosen one or not, but Cosette smiled at him, all innocence and said, “Again?”

“Again,” he agreed.

***

A noise woke Cosette from a dreamless sleep. She sat bolt upright, instinctively reaching for the stake she kept under her pillow. Listening carefully, she crept out of bed and padded to the window that overlooked the garden and froze, training her eyes on the darkness below. Nothing happened for a long time, and then there was another sound - almost imperceptible, but there. A tiny movement by the gate caught her eye. 

Wrapping her dressing gown around herself, she shifted her grip on the stake and slipped out of the room and down the stairs, moving slowly and hugging the walls. Upon reaching the door that lead to the garden, she paused again, very carefully unbolting it and pushing it gently outward on well-oiled hinges. She slipped into the garden in silence, eyes darting about, her gaze penetrating deep into the shadows. 

On velvet feet she slipped around the perimeter of the garden, keeping her back to the walls and fence, stake readied in her right fist. Finally she spotted what she’d known instinctively must have been there - a figure, barely standing out from the darkness in which it stood, moving slowly into the garden. She stood, unnoticed, and observed it. 

It moved almost with uncertainty, shuffling towards the bench that stood a few feet from the entrance, clutching at something inside of its jacket. As it moved out of a shadow towards her, Cosette perceived a human face, pale and almost floating above the jacket which was buttoned to the creature’s throat. Its expression seemed intent but almost anxious as it picked its way along, but Cosette knew better than to be tricked into thinking that whatever it was was capable of human emotion. She tightened her grip on the stake, shifting her weight onto her forward leg, waiting...

...And struck! Quick as lightning, she moved in for the kill, a high kick to the midriff knocking the breath from the intruder. She spun around, lacing her arm around the creature’s throat and holding the stake directly over its heart. “Don’t move.”

The creature whimpered, and from her position behind it she could see the whites of its eyes gleam in the meagre moonlight. “You needn’t carry on acting,” she informed it, quietly into its ear. “I know what you are.”

“A law student?” the creature responded in shaky and bewildered tones. Cosette frowned. 

“Monsieur,” she pronounced, sarcasm in her voice, “please do not assume that because I am a lady, I am ignorant of your kind.” She darted in front of the creature, keeping the stake steady, its point dug uncomfortably into the creature’s worn jacket. It winced as she pressed the point in. “How did you find me?” 

“I... a girl told me? I have a letter for you,” the creature said helplessly, lifting an arm. Cosette pressed the stake in warningly and it yelped. 

“A letter from whom? Your master? How many of you are there? Who else knows I am here?” she demanded, steering the creature back until it was pressed against the garden wall. 

“I’m sorry?” 

Cosette sighed and blew a strand of hair out of her face. “How many of you! How many vampires!”

“Vampires!” the creature exclaimed, its adam’s apple bobbing in genuine fear. “I am not a vampire!”

Cosette looked again at the creature, seeing it with new eyes. She had assumed that it had been clad entirely in black, as was usual, but now that she looked again she noticed that in fact, the coat it wore was a faded green color. Its quality was hardly as good as the vampires she’d slain - normally so vain - had worn. The fear on the creature’s face seemed genuine, and she had never known one to keep up an act like this so long after having been caught out. Frowning, she lifted her empty hand up to the creature’s mouth and pushed inside, to its apparent confusion. Drawing her fingertips along its teeth, she determined that they were, in fact, flat and small - decidedly human.

She took a hesitant step backward, lowering the stake but remaining on her guard.

“A law student, you say.”

“Yes,” the young man replied, sagging in relief and examining the tear she had made in his coat. “Although my grandfather does always call me a bloodsucker.” He smiled, in what appeared to be an attempt to reassure her of his lack of fangs. 

“Well, monsieur-the-law-student, if you are not a vampire,” Cosette said finally, tilting her head and giving him a strange look, “I really must say that it seems to me that you are doing everything all wrong.”

***


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What did you say?” spoke a voice from the shadows. Eponine jumped, then scrambled backwards, wishing she’d thought to pick up the rock. 
> 
> “Pardon me, but did you say ‘vampires’?” the voice said, as its owner stepped out into the light. It was a girl, around Eponine’s own age, dressed practically in black. The silhouette of her dress was fashionable, but the dress itself was plain, and her head was bare. Eponine eyed her with suspicion.
> 
> “What’s it to you if I did?” she responded cautiously, risking a quick glance behind her. The coast was clear. She could run...
> 
> “Only that I could help you with those, if you had,” the girl replied with incongruous cheerfulness, patting a bulging reticule that was tied to her belt. “It’s kind of my job.”

“You’re never cold, hardly ever hungry,” Montparnasse intoned, leaning closer. “And when you are, no begging for scraps of week-old bread, you just find someone and take what you need right from their throats. No cringing or hiding or lying. Master of your own fate!”

“I told you,” Eponine said, impatiently hitching her chemise back up over one shoulder, “I ain’t interested.”

Montparnasse let out an exasperated sigh. “There’s nothing to lose! All the pain, the cold, the sores, the aches, it all goes away,” his tone became dreamy. “Never age, never grow old, ugly - “

“Some folks don’t care about that as much as you do,” Eponine gave him a look of distaste, and then corrected herself: “Did.”

“I’m the same person, Eponine,” Montparnasse wheedled, snaking an arm around her waist. “It’s still me.”

“It ain’t,” she replied firmly, stepping away and disentangling herself from him. “You don’t know it, but it ain’t.”

Montparnasse snarled. “Thing are changing, Eponine. If you don’t change with them, there will be consequences!”

“See, now you’re not even pretending to be him,” Eponine observed with some satisfaction. The vampire’s face became a mask of anger. He darted towards her, but she nimbly stepped back. “Go away, Montparnasse. Go tell your master - who is it, Claquesous? I don’t care. Go tell him I ain’t interested.” She didn’t wait for a response, turning on her heel and darting away through an alley. After running for several minutes, weaving her way down narrow side-streets and ducking through gardens, she stopped to catch her breath.

She wasn’t sure where to go. Back home wasn’t an option - she was almost certain that her father was in on this, and though it made her heart ache to leave Azelma, she couldn’t risk it. She felt a pang and she realized she ought to tell Monsieur Marius - he lived right there, surely he’d get caught up in it, him not being terribly bright about things like this...

“Drat,” she muttered, kicking at a small stone. Who else would know? Gavroche? He’d never accept what Montparnasse was offering - and doubtless he’d offer, if he hadn’t already. Gavroche was small and fast, he might be able to get a message to Marius and Azelma, even if Eponine herself could not. Besides, they might be expecting her... but not Gavroche. People hardly ever expected Gavroche. 

“Vampires!” Eponine hissed in frustration, kicking at the rock again. She sighed, then looked around to get her bearings. She hadn’t been paying much attention to where she was going when she’d run, and it would be good to catch Gavroche when she knew where he was - he was hardly ever not at the elephant, this time of night.

“What did you say?” spoke a voice from the shadows. Eponine jumped, then scrambled backwards, wishing she’d thought to pick up the rock. 

“Pardon me, but did you say ‘vampires’?” the voice said, as its owner stepped out into the light. It was a girl, around Eponine’s own age, dressed practically in black. The silhouette of her dress was fashionable, but the dress itself was plain, and her head was bare. Eponine eyed her with suspicion.

“What’s it to you if I did?” she responded cautiously, risking a quick glance behind her. The coast was clear. She could run...

“Only that I could help you with those, if you had,” the girl replied with incongruous cheerfulness, patting a bulging reticule that was tied to her belt. “It’s kind of my job.”

***

“No,” said Javert, upon hearing Cosette’s plan. “You cannot reason with a vampire, you cannot offer him a choice. He has made his choice already.”

“It was not a choice he made, but one made for him,” said Valjean, gently.

Cosette was stuffing stakes up her enormous and fashionable sleeves and did not immediately answer. “You live according to the dictates to the laws of the Watchers, I live according to the dictates of my conscience.” She looked up, her blue gaze steely. “My heart is not stone.”

“It would be better for you if it were.” Javert hunched into his coat, thinking quickly. “On the force, we have been looking for this Montparnasse, he is part of the dangerous gang known as the Patron-Minette. They have shown no remorse for their crimes, and they have shown every inclination to continue on their spree-- and, I have reason to believe that some member of the gang is changing half the criminal world into vampires. I have called up the files of one Claquesous, whom I believe was our patient zero-- the vampire who began changing the others.”

Cosette rattled her sleeves to make sure that the stakes remained where she put them in her sleeve crinolines. “Do the police know what you are doing with their files?”

“Do the nuns know what you are doing with your religious training?” asked Javert, annoyed. 

“You were the one to teach her witty repartee,” said Valjean, with his usual ineffable gentleness in the face of Javert's irritation.

“I will give him a chance to change,” said Cosette, “but that doesn’t mean I’m going in unprepared. Papa?”

Valjean carefully handed Cosette the bottle of holy water on her vanity. Javert watched this narrowly; he knew, deep in his soul, that Valjean was a monster in man’s form, but he had never had any ill effects from holy water or crucifixes. 

“No, no, I mean, will you go first? Set yourself up as the target?”

Valjean nodded. “Yes, my child. Let me talk with him before you decide upon your course.”

Javert took his snuffbox out of his coat pocket, sensing he was going to win an argument. “And in all the years you have had the guardianship of the Slayer, has your talking to vampires, demons and creatures of darkness ever changed them?”

Valjean could not say yes, so instead said, gently, sadly, “Not yet.”

“Ah ha,” said Javert, with a tone of deep satisfaction. He helped himself to a pinch of snuff. “So, never.”

“No, just... not yet,” Cosette corrected him, taking the bottle of holy water and examining it. “Good, I still have plenty. You might be surprised someday, Javert.”

“I know the world. I know how it works.” Javert closed the lid of his snuffbox with his finality. “You watch, Slayer. You will end up staking this Montparnasse through the heart. There is good, and there is evil. There is the law and there is anarchy. There is no overlap between the two.”


End file.
